Sentiment
by symbion
Summary: One drunken night, some nasty demons, and a certain guy turn Shura's normally boring life upside down.
1. Chapter 1

**Sentiment**

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><p>An Angel x Shura fanfiction…honestly, they need more love, especially Angel. I don't say that I particularly like his character though…<p>

I presume that Shura is (in fact) 26 years old and Angel is (presumably) around 27-28 years old. They are adults, duh, so this fiction is definitely M.

Shura will be a bit OOC, as well as Angel, because if I keep their characters in line, the story will never due…

I'm sorry for all the typos, grammatical errors, etc. I'm sorry for profanities I used in this story (and the other stories as well). Last of all, I'm very, very sorry for all the people who follow my story ALIVE since I can't (dub: am not able, yet, to) update the fic. I'm really, really sorry!

So, proceed to the story and enjoy!

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><p>Part 1: Of Drunken Night and Sour Mood<p>

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><p>To say that Rin and the other Esquires were flabbergasted was an understatement. Their usually fully-revealing-in-appearance teacher was dressing, for the lack of word, differently.<p>

She didn't wear her trademark-revealing bikini, though she still had her shorts…with full black stocking on. Let say that her appearance was unusually, well, veiled. Moreover, it had to be noted that it was in the middle of the summer…

Kirigakure Shura was indeed wearing a shirt.

Yes, a shirt—the one with starch collar and button-up style. It was plain white…and it didn't seem like any female shirt at all.

They stared dumbly when the fiery haired exorcist strode into the class, promptly ignoring them and seemingly deep in thought. _As if_, Rin felt a strong urge to snort derisively, Shura was in the same league as him when it came to the brain department. She just didn't do thinking. It wasn't her forte at all.

Shura slammed her files onto the table—since when did she carry files when teaching, Rin had to wonder—causing her students to wince in an attempt to feel sympathetic towards the poor ol' teacher desk, and proceed to face the Esquires. She blinked when she was faced by several dumbfounded looks.

"What?"

Her acidic tone—not her usual mocking tone, Rin noted—caused some other weak-hearted students, like Shiemi and Konekomaru, to flinch and whimper. Both Rin and Suguro glared at their teacher, who chose that time to turn around and flip her hair over her shoulder a bit forcefully.

"Whatever. Open the textbook page 235 about the Ghouls." She exclaimed coldly before added, "Hurry up. I don't have more patience fer now, ye wimps."

Rin kept glaring at her back while opening his textbook. Honestly, what _the hell_ was wrong with her? Last night, when he and Yukio left Shura on her own at the nearby bar—honestly, she was impossible, Rin bemused; just what kind of teacher she was, dragging her still-16-years-old student and equally-16-years-old fellow teacher to a bar to get some booze?—she was still in her cheerful mood and laid-back demeanor. She was on the bordering of being drunk, they knew. Nevertheless, when was the time she wasn't? Shura was always getting drunk in one way or another, if she wanted to.

Now, she was in that rare-but-terrifying serious yet angry mood. Not to mention, those weird clothes. Well, Shura always had a weird sense in clothing, but still…this was plainly freaking weird.

The aforementioned person, however strangely, diligently scratched her lesson on the chalkboard without any word whatsoever. Her mind, though, was anywhere but the current classroom.

Shura's mind drifted through last night's memory. She felt embarrassment and anger wafting through her person. She scowled fiercely, and suddenly, much to Rin and the other's dismay, the chalk she used to scratch the lesson broke in half. She simply tossed the broken chalk into the trash bin and grabbed a new one before continuing her scritch-scratching on the board—still without any word or even sound whatsoever.

Rin grimaced. This was a bad omen, namely for him who would be in for next private training session with her just right after this lesson. _God, I am so dead_, he sighed, slouching slightly at his seat.

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><p><em>Last night, Shura was hammered.<em>

_She had dragged the Okumura twins to get some booze (mostly for herself) to the nearby bar, though they eventually left her alone later. She stumbled along the deserted alley behind the bar, thoroughly intoxicated with alcohol she had consumed before._

_Humming some rather discordant tunes, she occasionally took a long swig from her jug of booze. Everyone said that her stomach was bottomless if it had regarded alcoholic beverages and she admitted that it was quite true. She could drink cans of beer and bottles of wine just for one night, although she did more trouble when she was intoxicated. Moreover, she was easily intoxicated at that, since she couldn't handle her liquor well._

_Coming home so late at night, drunk, and dressed in skimpy red bikini, fitting jeans shorts, and leather jacket didn't bother her at all. Intoxicated or not, she could easily manhandle any thug that was brave enough to approach her. Still humming merrily while taking a swig now and again, Shura trotted her way back through the dark alley._

_Only this night, she was in for more trouble than she had bargained for. Initially, it wasn't mere thug who dared to annoy her, but some kind of low-level demon, which abruptly poured out from nowhere. She chuckled darkly, her hand poised about her chest, ready to draw her blade out. Just mere lowlies, she thought drunkenly, it's not something so much as serious as—_

"_**GRAWWWRRRHHHHHH!"**_

_Shura gaped as her jug slipped from her grasp and shattered on the ground. She knew it! She knew it that those lowlies weren't just coming out of nowhere! They must have their boss with them and ho boy, was she right!_

_Instantly sobered and cursing loudly, Shura drew her sword._

_The huge demon before her was ten feet tall, with four large horns on his head, pupil less golden eyes, foul breath, a mouthful of razor sharp canines, massive talons, and long, huge lizard-like spiky tail. Its skin was scaly and slick with some kind of slimy substance Shura preferred not knowing about. The overall structure of the demon mostly resembled a Western dragon—or dinosaur, a very ugly one, Shura sneered in disgust—aside from patches of thick, black fur covering some parts of its body, such like the paws and back._

_Shura grimaced and activated her demon blade._

_Defeating and killing the demon might have been an easy task for her…if only her head didn't choose that very moment to start getting dizzy. Shura groaned loudly. She regretted getting drunk so early that night._

"_Kirigakure Ryuu, Demon Blade Style…__**Dabo!**__"_

_She launched the first of her many attacks at the demon, though it only served to graze the creature—in which the scratch immediately healed. Shura clicked her tongue in annoyance._

_She darted away from her previous spot when the demon's tail lashed down on it, effectively wrecking the pavement in an instant. Blinking in slight amazement at the devastating force the creature barely displayed before her, Shura didn't have time to recuperate from her kind-of twisted landing as another lash from the huge tail forced her to roll on her back, away from the deadly assault._

"_Shit!"_

_She tried to stand, only to yelp in pain when she was suddenly aware that she had twisted her left ankle. It must be from her false landing before, she grumbled, her blade poised before her, ready to defend herself. The demon sneered down at her—really, she bemused in disgust and annoyance, could a dinosaur-like demon __**sneer **__at __**anything**__, for fuck sake?—and launched another torrent of assaults at her. Shura cussed loudly—half running, half waddling—as she avoided the assaults, only to get her right arm stabbed by protruding metal from the broken concrete._

_She cried in pain—__**fuck, fuck, fuck, shitfuck, it hurts like hell!**__—and involuntarily dropped her blade. Kusanagi hit the hard concrete with loud clanking sound. Shura cursed as she tried to pull the metal off her arm…only to be horrified when she saw that the demon was hurtling its huge body towards her._

…_**Well, fuck**__._

_She was going to die by __**now**__._

_A scornful smile formed itself on her luscious lips._

…_**I shoulda've given that brat and Scaredy Four-eye a well-deserved goodbye back then…**_

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><p>Shura flinched as the wound on her right arm stung.<p>

She had her wound treated right after she came back to her apartment, just a few hours before she had to rush for her lesson in the morning. She had cleaned and bandaged it properly. She had made sure that the bandages were tight enough. Shura was quite proficient with her medical practice, she knew. She wasn't a Meister in Doctor for nothing, although it was an unconventional one.

Thank goodness, the wound didn't quite affect her movement. At least she was somewhat relieved that her twisted left ankle was tightly wrapped in bandages by now. If not, she couldn't imagine how much pain she had to endure just by walking around the campus.

She could still function just fine—she didn't want to cause some commotion, especially amongst her student. More specifically, Rin. Despite his normally rude and stubborn trait, Rin was genuinely kindhearted and caring person. If he had known, Shura was sure he would make quite a hassle. Not to mention, Yukio…Shura sighed. She didn't want the boy-teacher to nag her about something like 'being careful' and 'not to get drunk again'.

She abruptly blinked in sudden epiphany.

…No, correction—she had her wound _re_-treated after **he**, of all people, treated it last night. She involuntarily blushed at the memory. She didn't expect the man to be so…_gentle_, due to his (real) character she had always known.

And not only that…Shura blushed some more—somewhat unaware that she had stopped scratching on the chalkboard as she reminisced her last night's memory.

_Who knows that he-he was so-so fucking __**good**__ in…in…_

Shura blushed like mad, gripping the chalk tightly it crumbled into pieces. Behind her, Rin and the other students raised their respective brows at her strange behavior. Shiemi barely had her bravery to ask her what was wrong, when suddenly Shura let out a frustrated growl and punched the chalkboard as hard as she could—thoroughly cracking the poor thing.

"Damn fucking bastard! I don't understand him, that jerk!"

Shiemi yelped in surprise, while Rin and the others blinked, dumbfounded, at their suddenly snapping teacher. Shura still had her fist on the cracked chalkboard, as if trying to make a hole on the unfortunate board just by her bare hand. She felt painful stinging on her right arm and cursed loudly as she realized that she used her wounded arm to punch the board. Grumbling and cursing in whatever colorful language she knew, the fiery haired female eventually pulled off her fist from the board and let her bruised hand hanging limply beside her. The stinging, thankfully, had dulled into slightly painful throbs.

"…Shit…fucking shit…"

She ran a hand—her left one—through her red hair, somehow feeling uncharacteristically nervous. She felt like screaming right now. How could _he_ make her so distraught like this? Normally, she would ignore him or pretend him as nothing but an annoying bastard as he was. But now…now she wasn't too sure how to even see him on the face anymore.

"Shura, _what the hell?_" Rin's incredulous voice brought her back to reality.

Shura glanced at him to find the half demon, and the other students, stared, horrified, at her arm. She blinked and looked down at her right arm. It was bleeding again. She cursed loudly. Must be from the punch, she concluded grimly. _Great, just fucking great…_

"Shura, your arm…"

"It's fine. Ye don't hafta make a ruckus about it, Rin." She droned lazily at her apparent pupil. Rin, however, didn't look convinced.

"…What the hell is wrong with you today, Shura?" He inquired a bit worriedly, blatantly ignoring her last words. Beside him, Shiemi looked at her with worried and concerned eyes. The others also stared at the female teacher expectantly, though Izumo tried to make herself look nonchalant and uncared.

Shura was silent for a moment, cradling her injured arm. "…N'thin'. Just lacking some sleep last night…"

"Really?" Rin pushed her further. "And that blood is coming from your punch before? I don't think so."

"I accidentally cut myself when I cleaned my blade last night."

"…Uh huh?"

"Yeah, _uh huh_. What's with this interrogation, Rin? Are ye my mother or what?" Damn boy was real stubborn when he wanted to, Shura mused, annoyed.

Rin flushed and pouted at her. "I'm just asking, sheesh! You act strange this morning! I think everyone's agreed with me about that!"

Behind him, Suguro made a noncommittal sound of agreement.

Shura, however, waved him off. "Nah. Don't worry 'bout little ol' me, boy. Worry doesn't suit ye after all."

"OI! I'm not worried, dammit!"

Shura chuckled teasingly at her so-called apprentice's flushed face, though in her mind, she pondered about everything that had happened the night before. Damn, it was frustrating! She needed time to think about it, it seemed so. She glanced at the chalkboard, noticing her half finished scribbling and, seeing the board's apparent cracking, courtesy of her fist, she tried her hard not to wince. Mephisto would be nagging her about the cost later; she was sure about it. But more importantly, Yukio would firstly yell at her, spewing something around 'public-property damaging', 'vandalism' or something like that.

Not that she would think about it firstly though.

Now, her top priority was about how to settle this _…disturbing _matter with **that person** …_later_.

She uncharacteristically sighed, somehow earning both Rin's and Suguro's attention—and more of concern from the said half demon (not that he would admit it out loud, of course). Shura never sighs. She boasts gleefully, she laughs boisterously, she sneers cynically, she smirks teasingly, but she _absolutely, definitely _doesn't sigh.

Shura eventually continued her scribbling, halfheartedly at that; at least right until the bell rang, signaling the end of her session. She dimly noted that Rin got up from his seat a bit reluctantly, unlike his usual rushing pace. She ignored his worried glance and strode out from the class.

She needed to find a certain someone.

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><p>R&amp;R if you like. Thank you.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Both Angel and Shura are waaay too OOC here...sigh.

There's no graphic lemon here, perhaps later...IDK. This is rated M mostly for the language i.e. profanities XD

Sorry that the way I write this story makes you confused :)

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><p>Part 2: Of Frustrating Headache and Crazy Woman<p>

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><p>His head hurt like hell.<p>

Arthur Auguste Angel didn't remember when he ever had this level of a killer headache in his entire life—not even when he tasted his first booze. He had a rather strong tolerance for alcohol, he supposed, that he didn't get easily intoxicated even after some rows of the strongest liquor he ever had a chance to taste.

Groaning, he got up from his bed sluggishly and instantly shivered when the cool morning air hit his body. His _naked_ body, he suddenly realized, alarmed. He looked down at his body and found that, indeed, he was stark naked behind his thin, expensive silk sheet.

Blinking, Angel tried to rake his blurry mind, just what **exactly** did he do last night that he ended up slumbering with nothing but his sheet. However, his eyes suddenly caught sight of something slipped behind his sheet. Something **red** that, in normal situation, _couldn't_ and _shouldn't_ be there. He shakily reached and slowly pulled the thing out from beneath the sheet only to be utterly and completely _horrified_.

It was a **red bikini**.

A _painfully familiar_ red bikini with ruffles.

A _painfully familiar_ red bikini that belonged to the one and only _**Kirigakure Shura**_.

He dropped the thing as if it burned his hand.

_Kirigakure Shura_, Angel bemused, clasping a shaky and sweaty hand over his gaping mouth, still in complete and utter shock. _Kirigakure Shura…she…_

…_Oh…oh, God…_ now he remembered… _last night, he and Shura were…_

Angel slapped his forehead.

"…My Holy God…" Angel muttered desperately, dragging his palms over his face. "…My Holy God, what _the fuck_ have I done?"

_Shura and I… how seemingly __**impossible**__ it sounds; the fact is… __**it**__ happened last night. Undoubtedly, alcohol took major part in it, but still…_

Angel groaned.

And uncharacteristically blushed as he recalled the last night's memory.

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><p><em>Japan was so different from Italy that Angel was slightly baffled when he firstly stepped his foot in this country.<em>

_He rarely had business in this branch, which was normally handled by the ever-annoying Mephisto Pheles, but the Pope had given him an order to stay put in Japan and watch over __**things**__. He knew that those things the Holy Man mentioned included those half demon twins and Mephisto Pheles._

_Despite his alliance with the Order, convincing promise, and somehow bold (__**preposterous**__, Angel himself dubbed) statement about using the elder Okumura twin as Vatican weapon, Grigori still didn't fully trust Mephisto. The man was a demon after all, a tricky and clever one at that. It was just wise not to fully swallow whatever things he had spewed. Angel knew just that, he never trusted the goateed man since their first meeting anyway._

_The twins, however, were another set of problems._

_Angel still remembered the event when he had to go to Mephisto's academy to retrieve the boy. Okumura Rin could have passed as an ordinary boy, he pondered—except for his demonic lineage and power. That made him as dangerous and threatening as one high-level demon let rampaging himself. And he was one, since he was Satan's son and possessing power similar like his old man, albeit weaker._

_The boy's temper was another additional case though. Angel chuckled cruelly. The boy was stubborn and rogue, with harsh mouth and uncouth demeanor. He didn't regret what he did to the boy due to his indecorum before the Grigori at that time. The boy had high-speed healing ability anyway._

_Okumura Yukio, however, was plainly different from his twin. The boy-teacher was soft-spoken and behaved well. He was also a genius, excelling in both academic and exorcist's educations just in a couple of years, or so he had heard._

_He was strangely born as human, while Rin was born as half human/demon. Angel had always thought this as a strange coincidence; though the knowledge that the twins were fraternal made him somehow understand the fact. He supposed that Yukio was more than just mere human boy—if his demonic potency was somehow hidden and yet to be uncovered. He guessed that the Pope thought similarly, thus ordered him to keep an eye on them._

_The young Paladin scrunched his nose in disgust when he arrived from the dimensional door, right at the basement of the True Cross Academy—only to be welcomed by the Principal himself. Mephisto Pheles wore his trademark Cheshire grin Angel had become to hate so much and regarded him with exaggerating gestures of twirling and bowing._

_The older man (__**demon**__, Angel sneered inwardly) blabbered that he felt honored to be able to host the Paladin himself, that he was glad Angel could visit his humble academy (__**humble, my ass**__, Angel mocked inwardly). The blond-haired man, however, almost instantly tuned the rambling out and spread his sight over the place. He noticed only one familiar face amongst his welcoming group though, aside from Mephisto himself._

_Igor Neuhaus stood silently and gloomily at the corner, gazing at him with impassive eyes. Angel narrowed his eyes as he loftily reciprocated his gaze. The older man was unfazed though. Scowling, Angel turned away from him and his gaze. Somehow, he had to wonder what Neuhaus saw in Mephisto that he became so loyal and obedient towards the demon. Angel knew that Neuhaus immensely hated demons and Satan, so he just couldn't understand the man's behavior._

_Angel had to halt in steps when he heard Mephisto referring to Kirigakure Shura._

"_Pardon? What's this about Kirigakure Shura?"_

_Mephisto paused from his one-sided blabbering and blinked at him. If he actually realized that Angel had ignored him from the beginning, he didn't quite show it in his face. Instead, he smirked lazily._

"_Nothing. It's just that I said that I didn't tell Kirigakure-sensei about your arrival. Only few teachers here know about your stay. Of course, I didn't tell Okumura-sensei." The demon's smirk grew wider. "The two could have alerted Okumura-kun if they knew. It would be inconvenient for you, am I right?"_

_Angel frowned at the man and slowly nodded. "Of course. I'm …grateful for your thoughtfulness."_

_He ignored the slight pang within his heart from the fact that he wouldn't meet Shura eye-to-eye. The woman hated his gut anyway._

_After some exhausting time spent in Mephisto's office listening to his excessive blabbering (about what, Angel didn't really care, honestly), the annoying demon eventually ordered one of his attendants to show the Paladin his room._

_Angel supposed that Mephisto would dispose him in one of his luxurious suites within his tower. But he had to suppress his bubbling anger when the attendant, quite reluctantly, showed him the way towards the outer side of the academy i.e. to the city itself._

_And upon seeing his place-where-he-had-to-spend-his-time-when-he-was-in-Japan-to-be, Angel couldn't help growling in pure venom._

"…_What's the meaning of this?"_

_The attendant flinched at his harsh tone._

_Shakily, he replied, "I-I-I am very sorry, Sir. But Sir Pheles has booked your name on one of the hotels outside the academy. He-he reasoned that, since both Kirigakure-sensei and Okumura-sensei, not to mention Okumura-kun, have already known you, and labeled you as their adversary; it will be quite troublesome if they, by any chance, accidentally see you scouting around the academy. Sir Pheles also said that he has already ordered some fellows to watch over their movements. The group that is responsible for this task has already been told to report firstly and directly to you, Sir. Lastly, about your hotel room… of course Sir Pheles has prepared everything for your convenience, Sir Paladin. Though…" he trailed off as he fearfully glanced at the furious Paladin and the hotel back and forth. "…you see, Sir Paladin… Sir Pheles is a bit, well, running out of money at that time..."_

_Oh, the hotel was quite decent, really. However, for Angel, it was too shabby for his liking._

_And he __**obviously**__ didn't like the obnoxious pink and orange confetti—it was __**freaking**__ hanging on the outer walls, dammit!—that the hotel used as its main decoration._

_Speak about Mephisto and his weird taste in fashion…_

_Angel didn't know whether to pummel the poor guy right here and now, or to march back to the blasted demon's office and yell the living shit out of him for being such a cheapskate bastard as he was. He did none though as he resigned to glaring heatedly at the whimpering attendant._

"…_Tell Mephisto, he will get it from me __**later**__." The attendant shivered as he saw the murderous glint in the Paladin's blue eyes. "As for the hotel room, tell them to cancel it. I think I will look for my own place to stay, thank you very much. The Vatican has already disposed some expense anyway."_

_He lied of course. The Vatican didn't really dispose him some expense, except for just a few. He had to spend his own money for his hotel. Though, he made a mental note to send a memo to the Intelligence Department at Vatican, asking them to 'thoroughly hack into Mephisto's personal account (__**the actual one**__, Angel reminded himself, __**God forbid that the demon could create money from nothing… in second thought, perhaps he could… **__Angel inwardly cursed) and steal some of his wealth'._

_He then shooed the attendant off—the poor guy __**literally**__ dashed away from him right after he was dismissed. Angel sighed heavily. He was somewhat relieved that he had decided to travel light, only Calibur and one suitcase. He was also glad that he chose not to wear his normal uniform._

_For now, he opted to wear practical clothes: white button-up shirt with crème-colored coat and black slack. Black leather shoes completed his appearance. Calibur was strapped safely on his right hip. Thankfully, the demon sword was silent this time. No matter how much he adored his sword (and vice versa), Angel found himself often annoyed by its screeching voice and coquettish tone._

_He found himself a hotel to stay not too long after—a high-class hotel with luxurious suites, bar and lounge, pub, and such. He rented a suite—not an overly luxurious president one, he actually preferred a simple deluxe one—and decided to take a nap. He had stored Calibur inside his dimensional storage when he stepped into the hotel, for the safety and secrecy purpose—he didn't want to encourage those clueless people to suspect him as some kind of terrorist after all. He hated to do it though since Calibur always nagged him whenever he stored the sword away, and he hated to fend off its fussy complains._

_His nap, however, was interrupted by a sudden crash nearby._

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><p>His eyes caught a sight of his duffel bag. Angel cussed.<p>

His bag was in complete disarray. He guessed that Shura must be the one who was responsible for this.

He slid down from his bed and, being mindful of his nakedness, he then wrapped his silk sheet around his waist. Crouching near his messy bag, he realized that one of his formal starched white shirts was missing.

Shura must have stolen his shirt.

Angel's eyes narrowed in confusion and slight exasperation. _Why would she…oh…_

_Oh…_

He blushed something horrid. _**Again.**_

…_Oh, yes, of course…how come he became so dumb…_

_Hickeys…_

No wonder the woman took so much effort to rampage his bag just for some cover.

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><p><em>Angel practically jumped from his room's balcony onto the nearby rooftop.<em>

_Calibur conveniently unsheathed, he leaped from the roof towards an alley below. His nose crinkled in disgust—he could literally smell the foul odor from those rotten Gehenna dwellers._

_When his feet eventually touched the ground, he cussed loudly as he almost slipped on the remnants of something slimy. Angel didn't want to think about __**what**__ that something was and continued his way towards the ruckus._

_He was suddenly aware that there was a battle occurring at that time._

_Angel slipped around a corner and hid behind the wall. He tried to catch a glimpse of the battle. He raked over his mind as he tried to recognize the blurry silhouette of the one who was currently fighting the huge lizard-like demon. He didn't recall that either he or Mephisto did order some exorcists to get stand by on this particular corner of the city._

_A blurry sight of something __**red**__ caught his attention. It was a mass of hair, fiery red in hue, tied in somewhat familiar sloppy ponytail. Angel blinked._

_The one who was fighting against the huge demon was Kirigakure Shura._

_Astonished, the man watched silently as Shura evaded, dodged, and attacked the demon. Her movements were swift and efficient. Angel would dare to say that she was graceful and elegant, for the lack of words._

_His attention immediately focused on her most significant trait—her bosom. Involuntarily blushing, Angel cussed softly as he watched those specific parts of her anatomy bouncing and jiggling with each of her rushed movement._

_It wasn't that he was unfamiliar with how little Shura was always wearing from time to time—hell, he thought he was kind of immune from that by now. Normally, he would ignore her and her, ahem, assets. However, now that he actually had the time to truly watch and observe her, Angel suddenly got an epiphany, a redundant one but at that moment, he didn't care._

_Kirigakure Shura was one hell of a beautiful and sexy woman._

_Angel felt like slapping his face. He didn't really think about her in __**that**__ way, did he? Oh yeah, he __**really did**__._

_A sudden pained cry jolted him back from his musing. Alerted, Angel looked up only to see that the fiery haired woman had her right arm stabbed by some protruding metal from broken concretes nearby. He watched, somehow horrified; while Shura struggled to free her bleeding arm from the said metal …and have the former demon dashed towards her direction._

_She froze, mortified, and then slumped in resignation._

_Angel froze. And then he snapped back as reality slapped his face, hard. The woman was going to die if he didn't quickly interfere and save her!_

_Quietly chanting the spell of his signature attack, Angel leaped from his hiding spot. Calibur in hand, he swiftly moved before the fallen woman; effortlessly shielding her from the incoming assault. The rampaging demon roared as it slammed its gigantic body on him, only to be repelled by some kind of invincible barrier._

_Angel smirked menacingly as he activated his formerly chanted attack. He could feel his excitement peaking and he murmured at his trustworthy sword. "Ready, Calibur?"_

_The effeminate-voiced sword screeched in cruel fascination. "As always, dear Arthur~"_

_Angel's smirk grew wider. "Let's do it then."_

_A blast of blindingly golden light exploded from Calibur, following his calm and steady spell of "Zodiac Slash". The blasting golden light zoomed upward, resembling the huge sword itself, and thrust through the demon's body. The lizard-like demon let out a deafening roar, before it staggered backward and fell to the ground with a loud thump. It didn't move again afterward. Its miniscule minions almost immediately scattered away and vacated the spot after their leader's apparent demise._

_Angel emerged from the fading golden light; still holding Calibur in his right hand. He gazed coldly at the rapidly dissolving demon's carcass when he heard strained gasp from behind._

_He glanced at her shocked face and had to stifle his chuckle at her gaping expression._

"_What's this with that pathetic form of yours, Kirigakure?"_

_His callous words jerked Shura from her flabbergasted state. She scowled at him, face somewhat flushed bright red; either from anger or something else, Angel didn't know._

_The Paladin found that he had to blink just to make sure that he didn't see some illusion. Kirigakure Shura doesn't blush—at least not the Kirigakure Shura he had known for his entire life._

_But then he caught a sniff from the air and found, amidst the horrid stench of those Gehenna dwellers, an unmistakable sour and sweet scent of liquor. He frowned distastefully and turned his eyes on the woman before him._

"…_You're drunk."_

_Shura scoffed, the slight blush (__**it was from her intoxicated state**__, Angel vehemently reminded later) still evident on her beautiful face._

"_Am not."_

"_Yes, you are." Angel growled. The woman was always drunk—typical. She was infamous for her fondness towards alcoholic beverages after all. And the scandalous mishaps she often did whenever she was intoxicated._

"_Am not!" she growled back and tried to stand up, before let out a pained whimper as her jolting movement made her aware that she was still stuck with metal rod protruding from her right arm. Blood rapidly gushed from the open wound and Angel found himself uncharacteristically concerned for the woman._

"_Stay still, Shura. I will help you out." He told her neutrally, masking his worry at the sudden paleness on her face._

_Shura was silent aside from her harsh panting, her face sweaty and pale. She tried her hard to cover her pained expression, but wince and flinch every now and then betrayed her worsened condition. She didn't seem to acknowledge his words, but Angel knew that she heard him._

_The Paladin edged near her and was inwardly glad that she didn't shy away from him or even yell at him. Shura, however, averted her gaze from him and proceeded to let him do whatever he ought to do to help her._

_Angel sighed and crouched beside her, carefully watching her disheveled appearance through his golden bangs. Aside from her stab-wound, Shura had a couple of scratches and bruises. He took a serious attention on the way her left ankle was in an odd shape and he concluded that she probably had twisted or, worse, broken it._

_Being extra careful and uncharacteristically gentle, Angel began to extract the metal rod from her wounded arm. Shura hissed out in pain at the slightest motion, though she immediately bit her lip to prevent any further sound to escape. Angel mentally cursed after examining their current situation. The metal rod had too far gone through her arm he had to cut it off to ease his way. This would be quite nasty to handle._

"…_Brace yourself. I will cut the metal off for easy extraction." He warned her._

_Shura turned her head to look at him, a scowl firmly plastered on her face. "Do it __**fast**__."_

_Angel sneered mockingly. "Don't order me around, Shura."_

"_Che, whatever, Baldy."_

_He chose to brush her snide retort aside and went back to his task-on-hand. He brandished his sword and swiftly swung the huge claymore to cut the metal. The rod was effortlessly cut, but not without its jarring momentum. Shura forgot to stem her voice and screamed out in pain._

"_FUCK, ANGEL! THAT HURT, DAMMIT!"_

"_I TOLD YOU TO BRACE YOURSELF, WOMAN!"_

_They glared at each other heatedly for some times, but the tension was somehow broken by Shura's sudden sway. Angel snapped out from his temporary anger and quickly caught the weakened woman. He cussed as he saw her bloodied arm—and the still protruding metal—and shook her shoulder none-too-gently._

"_**Shura!**__ Dammit, Shura, don't fall unconscious yet!"_

_Weak chuckle could be heard from the said woman. Angel glared at her, though his glare softened when he saw her pale and sweaty face. She wore a grim smile with half-lidded eyes gazing unfocusedly at his direction._

"…_Heh, never thought… in a million years… that I'll see ye so worried… over me, Baldy."_

_Angel grimaced. "Shura, you're slurring. And I'm not Baldy nor even worried for you."_

_She wheezed. "…Huh? Liar…"_

_Alarmed, Angel saw that she was bordering to blacking out. He shook her again, a bit roughly this time—resulting in her pained hiss. "Shura! Stay awake, dammit!"_

"…_Fuck, that hurt! …Shit…" her head lolled backward, effectively alarming Angel. Her words afterward, however, slightly eased his panicked state._

"…_Shit, my head hurts… musta've been the liquor, damn right…"_

_Angel blinked at her, un-amused._

"…_Yeah, damn right."_

_He made a quick work to extract the metal from her arm—he noted that she bit her lip in order not to cry out in blatant pain—and used his handkerchief to bandage her wound. The cloth was quickly damp in blood so Arthur decided to carry her to his hotel room for further treatment._

_Not to mention, the passing bystanders who heard the commotion quickly filled the alley. The last thing Angel wanted was for some ignorant civilians to sniff around stuffs they didn't have the right to see and hear. Blaming it to bureaucracy, one of many things Angel hated was paperwork._

_Shura groaned in stubborn refusal when she felt her body being hauled to stand up. She winced as her left ankle throbbed painfully, reminding her of its twisted state. She wobbled unsteadily when she tried to balance herself on just one leg—only to be caught in two strong arms._

_She stiffened._

"…_L-let me go, Baldy." She darkly muttered, somehow unaware of her stuttering._

_Angel smirked triumphantly, ignoring the pleasant feeling caused by her soft yet quite toned body against his._

"_Not a chance. You're coming with me."_

_Shura bristled up as she tried to simultaneously yell at him and push him away, but her fatigue immediately caught up with her. She fainted right into his waiting arms._

_Angel sighed heavily._

_Tonight would be a long, long night for him._

* * *

><p>The blonde Paladin face-palmed.<p>

Oh, he hated it when his intuition was right.

That night had been a long, long night, both for him and Shura.

…Not that he regretted their mutual act, though.

Angel growled, utterly and royally annoyed—and blushing like mad. He, the Great Paladin himself, was rendered into blushing and behaving like some love-struck teenager. It was unacceptable. It was completely, _**totally**_ unacceptable.

Snarling angrily, Angel stood up and marched towards his bathroom. He snatched some clean clothes and decided to take a bath. He felt an impending doom a.k.a. one hell of a headache reigning over him right now. He just had to take some aspirin later.

He must see Shura once more.

He had to talk with the fiery haired woman considering this **…problem**.


End file.
